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’ Joy rose in Melusine’s bosom. I. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. ‘I do not know. His smile faded. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. "With your friends, dear Mrs.
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