It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. “You’re splendid. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. . “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please.
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