It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. There is a small yewtree west of the church. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. So long as matters remain as they are, and they found me, there would be no shame for Ruth.
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