She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. ” “Where do you go?” “Oh!—Alps. It will serve you out if I give her dagger back to mademoiselle, so that she can plunge it right into your chest. " "So do I," replied Ruth.
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