"Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he wanted to buy. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. Only you seem to me since the time when I knew you in Paris to have changed—to have changed in some subtle manner which I find at times utterly bewildering.
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