They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. E. We had better have it over. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived.
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