“Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. It was too good to be true. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. " "What?" he barked. " "I feel bewildered," said Ruth. “Oh, damn!” he said. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully.
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