It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. “To be my eternal love. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. His glance came up again and met hers. “Close your eyes. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. ’ ‘Very well, Melusine, you win,’ Gerald said unguardedly, and dug his hand into his pocket. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in.
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