‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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