. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. A. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. Wood. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. There was—a service.
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