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. ’ Turning, she climbed over the low haha wall. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. We LIKED each other well enough. All these wonderful comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak.
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