She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve.
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