Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. " The doctor had entered the room fully determined to tell the patient the major part of Ruth's story, to inspire him with proper respect and gratitude. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. Besides, your remark is not in the least complimentary. ” “John, maybe I don’t want to try out for orchestra right now because my heart isn’t in it.
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