" Ruth turned back toward the stairs. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. Melusine’s eyes blazed into his. As Mrs. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. "What's the matter?" he cried. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth.
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