"Will he live?" asked Ruth. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse. Stanley. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. Then fury claimed her and she could no longer pretend. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked.
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