100 Long ago, in Greece and in Egypt, a woman of your intelligence and beauty would have been elevated as soon as she became an adult. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. His eyes never left her face. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. I've got the watch-spring saw in my sleeve.
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