She was furiously angry. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. .
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