He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. “You can say what you have to say before Mr. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. Earles was absolutely indifferent. Then she shrugged. He was extremely loyal to you. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was.
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