There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. It slipped out—as did that “she”. It said: Got news for you about J. You've nothing to do but to take possession. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. “Can you give me any information as to this affair?” he asked. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male.
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