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" "Take it," replied Thames. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. When they reached the door, he kissed her 246 again. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. “It was my sister Anna. It was a clear, lovely, October morning. Though meant to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed to excite the risible propensities rather than the commiseration of his auditor; and when Mr. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. She made no answer, and for a time he debated some problems with himself. You've betrayed yourself, Thames. She was already a little prepared by her discursive reading and discussion under the Widgett influence for ideas and “movements,” though temperamentally perhaps she was rather disposed to resist and criticise than embrace them.
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