The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. ” “The truth!” There was a brief but intense silence. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard.
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