’ ‘I see now how it was that Marthe knew of the secret passage,’ Melusine said. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. "More than you'll pay for it, friend," snuffled the Jew. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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