Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. Michelle and her father sat in the audience, Diane having chosen to stay home to prepare dinner.
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