Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. I am gambling on his intuition. “Homely?” “Well, yeah, that’s what he said.
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