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Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. What he did not know was this: Ruth surrendered these little secrets because the doctor had warned her that the patient must be amused and interested. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. She wedged the towel between her legs. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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