E. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. " 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. . And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. . I want to talk to you, and I must return tomorrow.
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