“I’d give anything to kiss your neck. She ran to the lamp and extinguished it. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. “Is this hansom for me?” she said.
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