You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. “It was very tiring. “I love you. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. ” “Why not?” she asked quietly. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. .
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