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The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. Wood. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. “What can you do?” she asked. "What for?" demanded Wood. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. ’ He threw a fulminating glance at Gerald. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. .
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