It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. Natives are queer. Ramage back his forty pounds. Then we find out. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. “Never mind me. Hogarth," replied Gay. "'Odd's! bodikins!" cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, "I'm in luck to-day.
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