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. That’s why he was so annoyed, you know. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. Smith: "ho! ho!" "How condescending!" thought Mrs. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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