" On a shelf was placed a row of paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and window sill. The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. It is a very small affair, after all, and you can pay me back if you will. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. ” “But Hainault—assured—me—that the marriage was binding.
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