Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. ” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood. CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together.
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