There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. Melusine’s heart ached for him, but she had to force him on.
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