He turned to Ruth and McClintock. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. Man or woman. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings.
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