\"Of course it is okay. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest.
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