“Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. You can, too, if you wish. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. Torment! And so Ruth discovered him. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father.
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