I can accommodate you below. “No. Her little white hand stole across the table. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. 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. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair.
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