‘And this is not all,’ went on the lady, evidently determined to disclose all her wrongs. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. Someone had thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. Beauty has bloomed and faded. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God.
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