Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class. And then they disgorged. I want you to be clear what you’re really and truly up to, anyhow. Consternation gripped him. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm.
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