The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. "In the name of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer me," urged Kneebone, "why—why would you not accept him?" "Because our positions are different," replied Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her feelings. "Why, this is your writing Dolly, and addressed to Mr. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. She caught at the idea.
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