I never want you to be ashamed of me. "You see?" Ruth said. Jests are not for seasons like this. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you.
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