" Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly. CHAPTER XXXI. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. The next moment, however, he was picked up, and set upon his feet by a person who, having witnessed the accident, flew across the road to his assistance. . The more she disentangled the lines of her situation the deeper grew her self-disgust.
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