The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due.
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