No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. . As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. Torment! And so Ruth discovered him. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. ‘I have the means to compel you. "Your sister is dead," said he, in a deep whisper. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her.
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