" So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. ’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed deeply. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. Just an idea of mine. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack.
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