" "You are the kindest man I have ever known," said Ruth, unashamed of her tears. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. " And he looked at the moment as if he had lost all desire to know it. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the stews. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed.
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