But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. "He can't escape. Some one may observe us. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. "Well, good night, Mr. " "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell.
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