"Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. . ” She had had so much time to learn the violin that she often thought to herself that she ought to be much more skilled at it. She would not let her move. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun.
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