] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. Three more people came to meet them at the door. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Manning, I do not really want to marry. . The contact is disturbing; and we prefer going around the fact to facing it.
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