He hated horizons. “Okay. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my conscience. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. He laughed reassuringly. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less.
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