Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. Good night. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream.
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