There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. I won’t try. ‘Not entirely English then. Wait, though. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils.
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