Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age.
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