"Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. “I should like to understand you,” he said. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. She was carefree. Where was the message? Where was Gerald? Until he came back, what was there for her to do? Eh bien, it made no sense to do anything. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. “You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly.
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