The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. " "You'll take the consequences, then?" "Willingly. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat.
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