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He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth intervened. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. ‘Quickly! You must get up. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. She recalled him. “You have the ideas.
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