Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. She had expected a love story; and love was totally absent. ” “He said, ‘Poor Alice has got no end!’” “Alice’s are different,” said Ann Veronica, after an interval. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Just one thing more.
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