Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. 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. " "That is your fault, none of mine. He tells me that you will not even see him. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet.
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