He returned, \"Can I walk you home then?\" She was completely taken aback and did her best not to show it. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. “Number 13, please, cabman. Her eyes quizzed the major. 1. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger.
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