To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath.
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