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. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand. ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. To tell someone who is kind and who will understand!" "There, there!" he said.
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