He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. He turned, expecting to see his wife. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. Laughed at me, then.
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