She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Two of these had been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home. 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.
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