CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Charvill’s fury was burning out. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. They were sitting alone, Lucy.
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