“I feared we might have a fog. Could you give me any references?” “There is Mr. ” “It’s so strange to think of you—troubled by such things. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘Imbecile. B.
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