He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ‘I hope I do not understand you. B. "He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. ” She patted his arm and wiped her tears away. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. "Well, it's a good story.
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