He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. ” “You have not answered my question,” he reminded her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. Taking her limbs was the only thing I could do short of killing her. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said.
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