‘Yes, but quite my own fault. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword. "This is our last transaction together. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. ” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly.
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