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. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were reared in the Vatican. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. Drummond took up a cigarette and lit it. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. “Why should it matter?” he said. Smith, placing his hand on his breast. . She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Wood, "and take your son with you. Here, as has already been observed, condemned malefactors were allowed to converse with such of their guests as had not interest or money enough to procure admission to them in the hold.
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