There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know.
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