Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. Her belly was being touched, she felt her thighs caressed softly. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. At other times he seemed to have regained the normal completely. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions.
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