For some seconds of voluminous thinking they looked at the ring between them, and neither spoke. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. I’ve never had these crying fits before. All this was the work of a minute. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them.
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