Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. I know that you are all my friends, and I know that you all have very good advice to give me. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct. His grip twisted her wrist. 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. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions.
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