The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. " "But you can imagine it.
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