Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. It’s just hard to keep things from her. It was the size of my palm. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon.
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