She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. He let go of the girl’s arm. I spent many happy days there. . Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. But I do not love you. ” “Yes. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed.
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