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" "Oh!" Ruth laughed softly. " The Wastrel rushed. ” “You like me?” “Yes. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. ‘Do not be foolish.
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