" "I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. “Mere sensuality. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. "To be sure I will, my child. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. Probably she was married years ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house. ” She shrugged her shoulders and led him towards a small recess.
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