It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. She could tell that he was leering at her. “In any case you will never receive any different sort of answer from me. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him.
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