’ The fellow seized on this. “You know about my scandalous past?” “Very little. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. 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. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute.
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