" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. ” She sniffled. Wood, leaping from the bed. Her confession was still unmade. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. I should require you to accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of England. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. He touched her breast as if he was testing the waters of a cold lake.
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