There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. And then, “They seem changed. 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. You’re mine. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were.
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