You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. ‘That is my mother. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. "Confusion!" he cried; "something has happened. "Kiss me.
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