But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand. " "Enough," returned Jackson, extending his hand; "and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. And because of this hanging gold Ah Cum left many doors open to doubt.
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