I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. “Please don’t be sad. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. "Noblemen. take it slow. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it.
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