Capes saw her, felt for her, cared for her greatly, even if he did not love her. “I love some one else. The commissionaire smiled. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. I consented. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.
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