" "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. He reached for her chin and lifted it up. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes.
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