He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. He went on. She entered the room in the shadows. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. 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. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also. So says your capitaine.
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