But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. She hated living like that. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. “He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery. “Have you not missed me?” He inquired. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence.
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