But here the resemblance stopped. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. Marry, come up! I'm not so easily deluded. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. Conscience drove him to this side of the world, to this bed.
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