“You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. I hate to see you spoil yourself with guys like me. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. ” “So far,” she continued, eyeing hungrily the last morsel of roll which lay upon her plate, “my only chance of occupation has lain with a photographer who engaged me on the spot and insulted me in half an hour. They could not go on. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this.
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