He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. Why?" "I was just wondering. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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