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’ She paused, struggling for the word. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. But still you have told me of my real mother when I thought it was Suzanne Valade. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do.
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