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"What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin. "A fall against Newgate is accounted a sign of death by the halter," replied Wild, with ill-disguised malignity. ‘That’s just it. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. . ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone.
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