His light brown hair was almost crew cut short. . She struggled not to be afraid. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. “They are coming past our table. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward.
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