’ Hilary stared. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. “I must explain to her. . ‘No. Wood, in equal trepidation. "And so this is a diamond," added he, contemplating the brilliant from the hollow of his hand: "it does sparkle almost as brightly as your ogles. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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