“For great passions, for great accomplishments. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. “Not too bad. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. In your heart you know very well that this is absurd.
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