. Chapter XXIII
MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST
At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. Emile’s fist crashed into her temple and stars
exploded in her vision. Certain phases of irony always caused him to
chuckle audibly. "Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my
friend again. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the
melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. Two of these had
been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her
mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home. There was no one to be seen in
the great hall. "I am innocent. "
So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of
that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven;
she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she
made bold to enter the talk. She was
to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand
Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine
linens, a small book of poetry. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman,
whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable
physiognomy.
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