Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ’ ‘Like your father,’ Gerald put in deliberately. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. " "Uh-huh. ’ ‘Certainly that is true.
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