” There followed an instant’s pause, and then Ann Veronica had decided to misunderstand. “I shall be waiting for you there, and in the meantime, if you will help yourself—pray don’t look like that. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Womanhood is sacred to me.
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