’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. But we get over it. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. ” He panted.
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