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" Here Ruth returned with the broth; and McClintock strode aft, convinced that he was going to have something far more interesting than books to read. CHAPTER VIII. . "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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