I will lay them all at your feet. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar.
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