’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. She must kill this man, or kill herself. Burn your palette and your easel. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. “It seems to me it comes to earning one’s living in the long run,” said Ann Veronica, coloring faintly. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. There was something which chilled even him in the cold impassivity of her features. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. She began to act. She did not wince.
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