Mr. His tongue was hot. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. "You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed.
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