Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. . I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. Spurlock mused over the previous night. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers.
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