He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. She held out the foil. All her questions would have as a background the idea of future defence. "I likes to hear vot you says. . . She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness.
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