There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. ” He played it cool, but he had seen it in her face. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. Play foul, and win. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame him. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. .
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