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” With a swift movement she gained the bell and rang it. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. ‘If you had told him that I would rather die than see him, he would not have come. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. They struck her as cold and indifferent. "Take care of your charge. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously.
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