His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. . “My dear Anna! As though I should think of depressing you with my long list of misdeeds. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face.
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