“I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. It took my breath away. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ’ Hilary stared. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. A failure! She must write herself down a failure! At her age, with her ambitions, with her artistic temperament and creative instincts, she was yet to be denied all coherent means of expression. " "I see through your design, Jack," returned the carpenter, gravely; "but I don't like under-hand work.
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