He was damned if he knew what to do. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. ” He said to her with as much casualness as he could muster. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. V. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ” “My God!” said Manning, in a stage-aside.
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