Entering the Red Room, he crept through the hole in the wall, descended the chimney, and arrived once more in his old place of captivity. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. The Matriarchate! The Lords of Creation just ran about and did what they were told.
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