] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. The truth was impossible, indecent. The simile started a laugh in his throat. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. It must have cut him. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. I don’t know why that should be so acutely humiliating. He unlocked himself from her embrace. \" \"There's only one problem.
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