” She taunted. "There's no outlet that way. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. Even now, during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the island was repellent. Go on. ’ Gerald capitulated. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. He will not come.
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