The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. ‘What would you do in Valade’s place?’ ‘You mean, knowing that the girl was here and liable to queer my pitch?’ ‘Precisely. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic.
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