Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. “You are one of the Hampshire Pellissiers, I know, and your family are quite as good as ours. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. He drifted in and out of consciousness. I sang to him, and he was satisfied.
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