Our heads swim with the thought of being together. "Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. Idiote. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all.
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