Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. She opened her eyes. ’ ‘Eh? Why did you not say so, man?’ demanded Hilary crossly. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else.
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