Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. She twisted her fingers tightly. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door.
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