‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. The night was now profoundly dark. " "I know not how to act," exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. After that consolations fled. ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong, I swear it.
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