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She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. I told you that at the outset. I fought ten lions at once. The thought of beauty became an obsession. Anna comes to London. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. I came to see you on my own account. ‘This is not love, Marthe. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. "The warrant for his execution is arrived. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight.
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