The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. There was no need to be afraid for me. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. "You are all right?"—anxiously. She drove me. Earles would permit. He seemed too noisy.
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