The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. Epithalamy might do. No; I’m going to stick to the rules. The meat was coarse and disagreeably served.
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