He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. 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.
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