Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. The door opened. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. This way, Sir Rowland.
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