“It isn’t fair. Ruth shivered; she was cold. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. ” Her hand hung over the side of her chair nearest to him. " "She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. I don’t think of you as a kid.
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