For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. ” “Young? I am twenty-four. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. 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. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied.
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