Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. You dear, dear girl. I don’t think you understand. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ‘I rather suspect,’ added Prudence, ‘that Major Alderley’s motives were somewhat different.
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