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. " "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. “Lucy, have you noticed that I don’t even own a dog?” He spoke into her hair.
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