Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. ***** In the daytime the streets of the ancient city of Canton are yet filled with the original confusion—human beings in quest of food. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point.
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