‘You wish to tell me something? Parbleu, I have nearly forgot once more. Not like my father. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. She waited expectantly. "Do you know anything further of Sir Rowland?" he asked.
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