And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. ‘I told you I could handle her. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. " "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers.
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