Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. " So saying, he rushed out, followed by Ireton and Langley. Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. "Ja," replied the skipper. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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