Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. Marry, come up! I've been a great deal too charitable. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said.
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