It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved, at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. CHAPTER XXII.
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