Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. He went on. ’ The lady opened her eyes very wide indeed. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. Which is also puzzling.
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