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’ They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket.
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