It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. Clotilde announced that she would not be back and she was taking Fritz and Anna forever. Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. Melusine glanced at the walls as she sped down the four flights of stairs, and noted with relief that some paintings remained. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father.
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