Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. “I have answered all your questions,” she said. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. I do not wish that the soldiers there will see it shine.
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