For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. "Leave him to me," he said. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. "I'm your dupe no longer. Mr. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. He put an arm around her.
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