Then he understood. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers. "Old Van told me if he grew up he would be hanged. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. But he has never been near her—never.
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