] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. "You show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen widow, than there is any need to show. "I was not aware it was in danger," rejoined Darrell. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. I was—I was a corespondent. She never calls herself ‘Alcide. . Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. “Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. . She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it.
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