She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love so impertinently. Always as black and bitter as gall. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. " And, with this, he coolly re-adjusted his peruke. . She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. ‘Let’s see now. "To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul.
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