But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “Now isn’t this nice!” that lady exclaimed. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch.
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