“I do. He seated himself before it. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. ” He said nothing for a space. Sheppard.
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