Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful. " "Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. ] "So much the better.
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