" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. From then on he was Ruth's dog. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. Won't you, Jack?" "That I will," answered Sheppard, eagerly. Later, there will be fever, after I've got his heart pumping. I imagine that even you must realize that this is of some importance.
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