Dinner consisted of three courses. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. But you belong to me—and I want you. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her.
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