It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. He had assumed that her leaving home was the point at issue, that everything turned on that, and that the sole alternative was obedience, and she had fallen in with that assumption until rebellion seemed a sacred principle. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. "Will he live?" asked Ruth. " "Find me the job. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him.
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