"I might return the question. He awoke, strangely content. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man.
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