Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. “Do you want to ruin me? I shall walk back. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. I knew where I would go next: Florence. " "You will never become that, Ruth.
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