Ruth loved him. She felt that with Capes near to her she would be content always to go on loving. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. " "Help me through at all hazards, Poll," cried Jack, straining towards the opening.
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