There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. \"Oh, that's okay, I do better if I study alone. ‘Why, that’s it. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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