. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. You never can tell. ‘Are you going to tell me?’ ‘But looking for proof,’ Melusine uttered impatiently. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her.
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