5. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. It’s to do with adolescence. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him.
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