Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery.
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