Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. By the old regulations, the free use of strong liquors not being interdicted, a tap-house was kept in the Lodge, and also in a cellar on the Common Side,—under the superintendence of Mrs. Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful.
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