"You see?" Ruth said. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. ‘You think I am like that Valade? No, a thousand times. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her.
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