"You repeated the word 'Fool' over and over. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. ’ Melusine did not forget. I believe you’ve crushed a gland or something. ’ He nodded. . "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required.
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