An ancient smile lay on his lips. Wells “The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. It was all highly intriguing. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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