His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. And if I hadn't been thirsty, that poor boob would have made a sure getaway and left James Boyle high and dry among the moth-balls! Oh, the old dome works once every so often. It is better that you go away now, I think. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man.
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