She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. He did not stagger in the least. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. You were very good. “It’s a period of crude views and crude work,” said Mr. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick.
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