That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. His face fell. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. Good-bye.
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