There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. When Capes glanced up at them for a moment, Manning seemed to be holding his arms all about her, and there was nothing but quiet acquiescence in her bearing. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Cahill gave me a hall pass. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it.
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