“My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. ’ He grinned. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. I was resolved to see you.
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