” She smiled at him. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. ‘You imbecile. What would you? I cannot fight them all. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. She goes out and comes home. He did make her perceive something of the acute, tormenting desire for her that had arisen in him and possessed him. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love.
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