I shall give you my life, every moment and thought of my life. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. . Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. She had never had a pet, never had a real doll.
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