The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. He was a philosopher. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. Well, you shall know. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. . You shall have room to develop, you shall live as you will, where you will, only give me the right to protect you, to free you from all these petty material cares. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. . "You must not remain here," he said. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Hoddy! All her fears fell away.
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