"Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me," growled Austin. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. “But, dear, think! He is your father. And the way he and the other men looked at her! The desire was plain on their faces, so many noblemen reduced to their simplest elements! They looked at her sideways, they looked at her backside, scanning her blue eyes and even looking right into her face. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. Mutual concessions!—and then to turn it around so that it suggested that an act of kindness might be interpreted as moral obloquy! Walls; queer, invisible walls that receded whenever she reached out, but that still remained between her and what she sought.
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