She is no longer mine; she is yours. The father was a madman. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. Ruth loved him. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. " "For an old bachelor?" "A human old bachelor.
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