“And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black. "Everything has prospered with him in an extraordinary manner. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside.
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