To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. “What are your objections?” she said. “He’s got almost to like it. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. And we'll see whether it won't put the Italian opera out of fashion, with Cutzoni, Senesino, and the 'divine' Farinelli at its head. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her.
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