He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. I demand it as a right. Ralph. “To be my eternal love. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. " "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. ” He paused with a sense of ineptitude. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only masquerading as Spurlock.
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