It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. "No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. " Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly.
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