There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. “The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. The last piece was Scheherazade. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me.
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