Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be again brought about, the struggle had terminated. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. And among human beings, too, women to begin with were the rulers and leaders; they owned all the property, they invented all the arts. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. ” “Not now. Curiously enough nothing will persuade him that she is not ‘Alcide.
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