Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room.
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