"Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames.
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