At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the patient's throat. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. " He had now gained the high road. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. The times were such that, with the opinions he entertained, he could not remain idle. Niente. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. There was no rush. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion.
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