'" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. Sir John felt hot and furious. ‘That’s wicked, that is. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on.
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