To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages. “I can’t endure it,” she said. ” She looked down at the flowers, still in shock, and gently laid them over her arm like a Miss America candidate practicing a crowning ceremony at a pajama party. . She was weeping now. " "You will never become that, Ruth. ” She paused. I believe it amused him.
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