’ ‘Don’t be a fool, woman,’ snapped Charvill, thrusting himself further into the room. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve.
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