The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. She forgot her vital hatred of the South Seas; she forgot that McClintock's would not differ a jot from the old island she had for ever left behind her; she forgot all the doctor's lessons and warnings. . Mrs. . Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. ” “I think I am.
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