If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression.
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