“Young lady! Are you sure you’re of legal age to be smoking those cigarettes?” “No, I’m not of legal age. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. "You read it, Ruth. “Now you must go,” she said firmly.
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