They say it hasn't been opened for eight years—but I won't be eight years in getting out of it. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. \"May I come in?\" His bravado was increasing.
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