As soon as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. I don’t know anyone. “I wonder if you give me a thought.
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