He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. ” He called for a hansom.
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