CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. ” He rejoiced over this emancipation. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin.
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