Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a yellow pearl. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. ” “Then she has never been my wife. . ” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child.
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