” “Thanks to me,” he repeated, puzzled. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. He was snoring stupidly. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. ’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. " "They always act like that after drink," said Ruth, casually.
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