" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts. The Wastrel did not relish this. I have sinned deeply; but I have been sorely tried.
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