Then fury claimed her and she could no longer pretend. . She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. "Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. She was for ever scanning luggage and finding her way about the world, via these miniature pictures.
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