"What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. " The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00.
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