" "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. To be ill and helpless. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. "I know you'll not deceive me. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. She rose to the fire to stoke it. . ’ ‘Yes, she will. This is a joke of yours. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. Love is one thing and friendship quite another.
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