" "Stop!" interposed Edgeworth Bess; "Mr. Promise me that you will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory we must both of us ever revere. Ruth could not be told now. . Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. ’ ‘Parbleu, but I find you excessively rude,’ she snapped, marching to meet him.
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