At times he was brilliant and masterful, talked round and over every one, and would have been domineering if he had not been extraordinarily kindly; at times he was almost monosyllabic, and defeated Miss Garvice’s most skilful attempts to draw him out. Unless he has killed someone. “I have my methods. “My word holds,” she said. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. ‘And your schooling?’ he pursued. He’s got flowers. "And so shall I," replied Edgeworth Bess.
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