He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. " And, with the uninjured hand he drew a pistol, which he fired, but without effect, at Jack. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. I wonder what it was. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. ” “I don’t have power over men’s fates.
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