And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk.
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