" "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. " "You had better take some refreshment before you start," rejoined Wild. She is more dear to me than anything else. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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