“Go on,” he said. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. ” She commanded him in a low tone. “I liked him, and I never undeceived him.
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