Let me keep you from that man’s clutches. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. He said. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. "Well, I'm sure Winifred could never have loved you as well as I do," said Mrs. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession.
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