A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. Then they rode off at speed. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying.
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