“You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. It was as follows, and, when uttered, produced a strong effect upon all who heard it, except the prisoner, who, in no respect, altered his sullen and dogged demeanour. “I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself upon your consideration and tell you the truth. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. ‘And take you this sword. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. They rose as she approached. 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. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song.
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