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His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Then perhaps I shall send for him if he has not forgotten. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. “Violence won’t do it,” said Ann Veronica. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account.
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