Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. ‘Not entirely English then. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. Her patience was waning fast. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor.
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