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. ” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. "No!" she cried. ” “Surely,” he protested, “the change is all in favour of your own inclinations. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed.
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