"They shan't have the opportunity," replied Kneebone. Nothing else weighs against it. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. He contrasted the lot of women in general with the lot of men, presented men as patient, self-immolating martyrs, and women as the pampered favorites of Nature. “My dear,” she said, when she could get her breath, “you must come home at once. The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know.
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