“I’m not so sure. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. Ruth was strong in body and soul. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. Sheppard, falling on her knees. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do.
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