The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import. "Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. Beneath that tree let us lie. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form.
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