They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. " "He has done too much already," answered the widow. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret.
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