But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. I have seen many of them. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. " He offered cigars, and Ruth got up.
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