And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. The day was warm even under an overcast sky and Hilary, uncomfortable, shifted his weight. "He will live," answered Ruth. “Mr. Wild's. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. It is a big house and there are many rooms in which to hide. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. ’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise.
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