” His lips tightened, and he frowned with solemn resolution. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. Now drop it. Burn your palette and your easel. Ruth shivered; she was cold. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one.
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