The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. She had slapped him away with her free hand and the finger was released suddenly, sending her careening to the floor. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk.
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