"I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. Just now the waterchestnuts…. "Ruth?" he called. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Rituals instead of medicines. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. . It was perfectly logical. The boat was set free, and the men resumed their seats.
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