She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. ” “Problems?” “Sometimes quite difficult problems. “Thanks, Cathy. 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. ‘Don’t dare call her that to my face. Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. She stared at him. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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