Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. She wanted him so badly it hurt. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. Opening the door he then stepped into a dark narrow passage leading, as he was well aware, to the chapel. “This means a plunge. She heard Gianfrancesco arguing with Sebastianus. I want to shout! I want to sing! I am glad! I am glad to be alive because you are alive! I am glad to be a woman because you are a man! I am glad! I am glad! I am glad! I thank God for life and you. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. ” An immense gulf seemed to open between father and daughter as he said these words. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor.
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