“It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. ” Anna’s eyes were a little dim as she poured out her coffee, and the laugh she attempted was not altogether a success. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. . " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. “Morning, Mom. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park.
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