‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. While this was effected, intelligence was brought that a formidable mob was pouring down Field Lane, the end of which was barricaded. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. From then on he was Ruth's dog. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her.
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