’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. Hill closed his eyes. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. The day had become suddenly overcast. But she did not believe he would do that. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. ” He sighed. She was pensive and thoughtful. “You’re. Wood heard the cry. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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