" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. She threw him his car keys. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. I do not think that you will dare to marry anybody else.
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