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I don’t think of you as a kid. ‘I fear you mistake, Emile. ‘She’s gone. But first, we’ve got to secure the convent. Not about girls that I date. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright.
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