All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. This individual apparently met with some impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood stood. She wrapped her legs about his hips as he raised himself upon straight arms, piercing her with his gaze as he thrust into her. Wu may have news for us.
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