“I don’t mean simply intensity of sensation. “You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. They almost made me feel like they were mine. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. “I do not even know who you are. “You don’t want to go?” “No.
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