"Mr. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. But the five per cent.
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