" "No," said Ruth, pulling back. He deserves none. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. Mr. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. The crash was tremendous. But in the early days of her abduction, she did not allow him to touch her.
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