The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly.
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