Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. "How is the patient?" he asked. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. The ring's yours, and you're mine.
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