The Closing Scene 472 EPOCH THE FIRST. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. “I believe so. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. It is repulsive.
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