Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. . “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. “You are coming in, aren’t you, Sydney?” “If I may,” he answered. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. Tell her, that more than once, when about to commit some desperate offence, I have been restrained by her gentle image.
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