As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. Sheppard, shuddering violently.
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