’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. Really they are the most beautiful things in the world. ” She admonished. These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. But no more of that.
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