‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. . 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son.
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