Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. I don’t feel it. "I was afraid it would be so. He stood before her. . ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone. " And he looked at the moment as if he had lost all desire to know it. "Good bye!" cried Mrs.
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