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He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. She heard him come in; the light burned on. “Well,” she said. Then he put the paper by. " "Hum!" said Hogarth, looking fixedly at him. ” The three men, who had arrived within a minute or two of one another, received her little speech in dead silence.
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