Gerald lifted an eyebrow. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet. “I am afraid,” she answered, “that one’s friends can judge only of the externals, and the things which matter, the things inside are realized only by oneself— stop. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. We men are like children.
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