"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. \" She thought of her kill. His high brow was what caused all the ladies in town to covet him, it radiated intelligence but also something more primal. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. But there was something in his face at once stupid and invincible that told her he would go on forcing himself upon her, that he would esteem speech with her a great point gained. I want to get away—to go to London. He has taken more than one step towards the gallows already. The signal of distress was evidently understood. 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.
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