" "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile. . ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were.
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