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By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. . For my blood you made it very hot indeed. She looked around her. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. ” Anna never flinched. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin.
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