Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. They are born idiots, incurably insane. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. This whole affair is truly my fault. If you had not brought your companion here, it would not have happened. “Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?” He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried examination.
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