Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. At this moment, Davies, who had completed his preparations, extinguished the torch. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. “The surgeon’s knife is surely a kindly weapon,” she declared. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. “I thought much of it amazingly beautiful.
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