“I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. I wanted something alive. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. No one would ever know what happened to him. But, indeed, he’s very human. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly.
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