"How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Wild. .
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