Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful. "By all means," rejoined Quilt.
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