It was as if there lay across the face of Rwth the perpetual Shadow of the Cross. It was as if, losing oneself in her eyes, one saw the rocky, dripping caverns leading through the jagged flinty ways of agony down to death. She felt very small and helpless with those eyes upon her, frightened and yet consoled. Suddenly, as if at the beckoning of Destiny, Rwth laid her thumb on the latch, smiled, opened the door, stood aside for Gillian to enter, and went away. The room was comfortable and even gay. It reassured Gill…
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