’ ‘Ah yes. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. His eyes closed. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage.
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