” “No. “Ciao. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. . I knew it. .
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