“My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. Very well, I give up. His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. “Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees.
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