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. Kneebone's 346 XIV. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. But at the same time, I must say plainly that I think your presence here just now would be a great misfortune.
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