“A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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