She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. He looked at her in some embarrassment. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. Well, come back in half an hour.
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