. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. But, egad! I believe he will. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the Resplendent Moonbeam.
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