" So saying, he bowed and departed. Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ‘Go on, Gerald. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. You have been burning paper, I see. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said. I can see the whole thing was just a set-up for sequels, though.
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