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He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life. \" She opened her eyes widely, as to better appear unworldly and unscathed. “I only use the weeniest little dab of rouge,” she declared, “and it is really necessary, because I want to get rid of the ‘pallor effect. It was the gallows. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. And he could not return this love.
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