The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. He gave her silence in return. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. A lesson learned. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore.
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