Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. It’s a damned hard thing to do. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. “I remember when you walked me home. Especially when they wear cologne. “Curious case—and sets one thinking.
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