” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. I shan't let you off a farthing. "Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will not stir till I am answered. ” He crossed his arms. "An oath weighs little with me, compared with your safety. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. So, let's think no more about it.
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