Her husband was prouder of her every day. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. Gosse twisted his body to avoid another thrust, and the heavy candlesticks fell, rolling with a noise like thunder, and falling with a thud to the floor. Nothing ensued. 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. "My enemy," replied her son.
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