He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. “I’m a big boy, you know. All these things spoke of peace;—but there are seasons when the pleasantest external influences have a depressing effect on the mind, by painfully recalling past happiness. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them.
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