"Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. ‘Idiot. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. ” “It cannot be!” “It is in the grimoires. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive.
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