I warned her not to say a word, for it would mean the death of everyone in the Palazzo, including you. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. Wild's name.
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