It was ended. All I had to do was to piece them together. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently.
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