After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet. "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude.
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