" The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. But they been good to me, they have, sir. Section 3. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight.
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