“His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. “See you. He stepped quickly towards her. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil.
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