That, I think, is manifest. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. “You don’t waste any time. “If only because of the way one hurts others if one kicks loose and free, one has to submit.
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