That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. “If I had three hands,” she said, with a faint smile, “I would give one to each of you. She woke up choking and belching water. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be.
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