She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. “If you cannot listen to me now it must remain undelivered. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. “That’s exhilarating,” said Ann Veronica.
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