She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. . The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. ‘You are there.
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