The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. ’ ‘That’s easy. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. As this gentleman was going away, he said to Jack in a jesting manner, 'that he should be glad to see him to-night at supper. .
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