. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. Old Kesterton, choleric-looking individual nearly opposite, will curse the cooking till he’s black in the face, but he never misses a dinner. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. "An American. You're luck.
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