Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. “Oh. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. You understand me, Charcoal. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here.
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