She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much. . Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. Then, though full of confidence, he half doubted his power of accomplishing his designs. I’ve muddled all this business.
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