After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Before he could return, Jack had made good his retreat; and, wandering about the lanes and hedges, kept out of sight as much as possible. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. I have seen you with Anna, and I have not known whether to be glad or sorry.
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