Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. ’ Gerald held out his hand, and she meekly gave the dagger up to him. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. It filled her with indefinable fear. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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