Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ” The tired woman shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and then looked with them at Ann Veronica. But at the word “home” she turned again. ” He got up and went to the guest room door and locked it. “What do we want? What is the goal?” asked Ann Veronica.
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