‘Until today. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. ‘Espèce de bête,’ she snarled. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. They are arbitrary and unjust and dogmatic and brutish and lustful.
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