The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. We can’t.
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