It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. " "There's some one in the garden at this moment," cried Jack; "I saw a face at the window.
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