"It is past," said Jack, placing his finger on the trigger. But there was a face pressed to the glass. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Even the teachers were getting restless, the seniors gnawing hard at the bit as graduation teased.
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