During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. She had not even endorsed it. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. I’m a Socialist, Miss Stanley. ” Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed. “I dare not,” she answered. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. ’ She struck her hands together. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. “I mean REALLY independent.
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