" "Then I wish you good night. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner.
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