“Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. But a man is a mixed creature. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. “Well, you certainly did very well at tea,” she remarked. "Oh lord! I hope not. "Hell's curses!" muttered Jonathan between his teeth; "that fool will ruin all.
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