She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. ‘So it is that you could not help it. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth. “But I am your husband,” he said. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. ” She grinned.
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