She heard him come in; the light burned on. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. “It’s odd—I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is wrong,” he said. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. 1.
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