He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood.
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