The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. . Ruth came to him directly. You’ll be telling me Gerald did not catch you snooping at the Bicknacres, I suppose. You have been burning paper, I see. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art.
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