Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. ” She knelt upon the floor of her cell and clasped her hands, and remained for a long time in silence. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion.
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