Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. He would have to make sure of her silence. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him. "Ah, I see it all!" he cried, with a quick glance. So he was forced to shift and proceed at another angle, forgetting his promise to McClintock to be temperate. Ah Coom. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. I suppose my creed is, ‘I believe rather indistinctly in God the Father Almighty, substratum of the evolutionary process, and, in a vein of vague sentimentality that doesn’t give a datum for anything at all, in Jesus Christ, His Son.
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