He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism.
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