Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. Gregory B. " Here Ruth returned with the broth; and McClintock strode aft, convinced that he was going to have something far more interesting than books to read. He would have risen again, but for the significance of the action. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room.
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