As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Surely Capes was different. 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. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left.
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