“But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. I did what I could to comfort her but she died in terrible pain. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom.
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