’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. "You can shave him, you know. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. The mode of destruction makes no difference. That would be him. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone.
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