“It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. "I don't believe McClintock would have gone into convulsions at the sight of it. " He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. The whole affair interested him deeply.
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