The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. “I am just back from Paris.
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