It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. She ran 60 past it with melancholic dread towards the slope that led to the ocean. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Mere formality. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. " "He won't be taking that.
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