No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her future. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. She has already forgotten it. ’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone.
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