"Ruth?" he called. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. "He was thrown overboard, and perished at sea. Do you see the time?” “I may come and see you?” Ennison asked, as his hand touched hers. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually.
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