"What's all this?" exclaimed Wood in amazement. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. He came over to me. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. It’s not you—not a bit. " Her utterance was here choked by sobs. ‘That’s not much comfort.
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