Spurling in alarm. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic.
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