I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. "It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ‘Oh, I don’t wish to marry you. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile.
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