It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. ’ ‘Ha! You’re Catholic, too, damn his eyes,’ growled the general. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. “You know about my scandalous past?” “Very little.
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