. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. " At luncheon, preoccupied in thought, Spurlock did not notice the pallor on Ruth's cheeks or the hunted look in her eyes. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. But let that verse tell my secret. They are not your children, they never were. I’ve been waiting a long time for you. But never mind that. This was his humiliation as well as hers.
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