And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. 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. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. ’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person.
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