I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Their faces had bite marks that were hers. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. They did not spend most days together.
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