Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation. I was in hopes you'd be content with my hat and wig. Determined, however, to conquer the feeling as soon as possible, Wood had given orders to have the evening meal served there; but, notwithstanding all his good resolutions upon his first entrance, he had much ado to maintain his self-command. She answered him almost coldly. You see, it is that I begin to like you, even that you are of this disposition extremely interfering.
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