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. Ruth loved him. He has a grand time. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. As to Thames, though deeply and painfully affected by the horrible occurrence that had marked his return to his old friends, he was yet able to control his feelings, and devote himself to the alleviation of the distress of the more immediate sufferers by the calamity. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. But two weeks later he returned. “All right?” asked the man with the light eyelashes, suddenly appearing in the doorway. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that.
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