The poison from the teeth radiated from her shoulder and paralyzed her limbs. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She was mentally transported for an instant to the old castle in Herculis. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. The two young fools laughed until they cried.
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