Thought she was a nun at first. “Let me help you,” he begged. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. ” He was not in the least surprised. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. She swallowed hard. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility.
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