He was speechless. 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. \"But you are so beautiful. Sir Rowland then fell. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. Brendon was silent. Still it was possible, and the difficulty was only a fresh incitement. " "How?" "Listen to me, Thames.
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