He was disquieted. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears.
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