"He is dying?" whispered Ruth. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. They are the only happy women in the Orient. I can’t forget about your sister. I didn’t! I didn’t! After all—” For a time her mind ran on daintiness and its defensive restraints as though it was the one desirable thing. Anna was married. She fought him with tooth and nail. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful.
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