” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. Mr. " "I wonder where the deuce I'll be able to get some writing paper? I'm crazy to get to work again. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke. No more.
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