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It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly. Clergymen were human. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember.
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