Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. This vessel is now in the river, off Wapping.
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