No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. She is no longer mine; she is yours. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. The showers of Second Period Physical Education class became another front on the battleground. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. The ring's yours, and you're mine. ” “No. My janizaries are without.
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