He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. She turned to face him and he kissed her. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. She went to her own table and sat down. ” “Perhaps not,” she answered. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert.
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