"Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. He will not come. " "Then, bring them into this room, the first thing—quick! They must not meet, Sir Rowland," he added, as Charcam hastened to obey his instructions. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back.
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