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“It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me. Instead, they appeared to be at the hygienic level of tramps’ lodging-houses. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. ’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. "No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business.
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