" The spinster did not ask if the mother lived; the question was inconsequent. ” The hand lingered too long. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. ’ ‘No, I won’t. ” She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. For a moment she remained silent.
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