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She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. “Not at all. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. “He is not—I don’t like him. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. ’ ‘Probably not. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. Hers were less noble, yet stately. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked.
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