Then the long lashes sank demurely over them. Sheppard, with startling eagerness. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. “I was frightened then,” she declared. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. People running, screaming, hiding. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. It might be dangerous to thwart him. Thankfully, he seemed pleased the moment he saw her face, which her mother had made her wash for weeks with the pulp of apples, orange water, and 21 extract of borage among other things.
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