He was always in a state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way.
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