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” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. “I love some one else. Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. The child has sprung into a youth; the youth has become a man; the man has already begun to feel the advances of age.
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