“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. 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. What more is there to be said? She defies me!” It was extraordinary. “How did you know I haven’t been getting any sleep --?” “Oops, that’s my class. .
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