John knew better. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. She fled. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour.
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