"Ruth?" he called. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. ” “Wait,” she said. "Were I in your place," said Smith, "I should be apprehensive of Wild, because he's a declared enemy. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very sick. “I have been bearing this—for your sake.
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