"What has happened?" asked Sister Prudence. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. “Does he know that I am involved with someone?” “Of course he knows. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. That is where life takes advantage of youth. Without a single ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour.
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