Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. That’s Italians for you. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. "I'm glad to hear it, that's all," he added, taking out his snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies. Wood's. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt it.
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