She still could not muster the strength to leave. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. ” Her aunt answered in a low voice: “I was engaged to him, dear, for seven years, and then he died. “I think—we all think that she is wonderful. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. \" He looked crestfallen. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. I felt—I felt living in a masked world.
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