These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember that embrace. ‘Certainly I can prove it. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. I never realized how fabulous all those homemade dishes were. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them.
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