Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. "Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. Supper was over. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them.
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