She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade.
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