He's worth a dozen of you. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. “Women know these things by instinct,” she answered. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. Where was the expected message from this captain, who had promised to send her word at the instant Gerald returned to town.
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