“Mere sensuality. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. 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. It's certain. Believe me, Anna. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire.
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