The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. I couldn’t help the thought. I stubbornly insisted that we wait, and you woke up. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. You had better go to bed.
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