"Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. They embarked upon an open and declared friendship. Very good. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man.
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