She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. Peste, but everything had become difficult. Just because she was sorry for that young fool! "Uh-huh," he repeated, rising and bowing as he passed Ruth's table. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent.
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