There was no need to be afraid for me. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. But I'll tell you about him some other time. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness.
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