She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. And at the sight something leaped within her. I may want you. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle.
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