Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. It is bad policy. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. ” It was a long, meandering talk, stupid, shameful, and unavoidable.
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