Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. I shan't let you off a farthing. Just my room. Sir John stood upon the threshold. Then, there shall be laid upon your body as much iron, or stone as you can bear, and more. You are not a coward David, and you must not talk like one.
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