She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. "Mr. Mr. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise.
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