Then they had released her arms and were trying to push her away. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. She was quivering with the sense of Capes at her side and glowing with heroic love; it seemed to her that if they put their hands jointly against the Alps and pushed they would be able to push them aside. Come along home, Ruth. ’ ‘What?’ Hilary glanced from Gerald to Melusine, and coloured up.
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