"What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. “It is true. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk.
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