Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound.
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