She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. At length, however, she threw herself off; and Jack carefully guiding the rope she landed in safety. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. I spend many delightful hours thinking of the pleasant and beautiful things of life. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. “How are you feeling?” She asked.
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