His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. " She rose. I did not know how he would act if I obstructed him. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. Spurlock mused over the previous night. We're lost.
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