And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. You are more in my power than I am in yours. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. . ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. Wood fancied he recognised.
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