“You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone.
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