From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. ” She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered.
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