" CHAPTER IX. "I've spoken. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. In the next place, she really had some pretensions to beauty. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. He caught the smirk. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. Well, they’d got to the pheasants, and in a little while he would smoke.
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