" All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. "I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. "Will he live?" asked Ruth. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. Cut it as short as you can. I'll tote it myself. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. “To think that you were going to do it—and never said a word! You are a little thin, but except for that you look—you look better than ever. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent.
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