“I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. I didn’t understand. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others. ‘Parbleu, but I find that this is excessively clever, this passage. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. ‘I said you were sympathique,’ she told him.
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