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Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. " "So I perceive," said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. Thinks they’re the same as soldiers. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. "Jack!" Her son averted his gaze.
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