He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. Wood, contemptuously. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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