Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. He frowned. Mr. You know as well as I do that it was accident. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness.
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