The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air. I don’t care. Here it is.
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