She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. . “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit. Now then.
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