" It was only a shade better than the Stone Hold. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. The doctor nodded to him curtly. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. "I do not see him. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. The servants had left the room. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern.
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