I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. " "And all the time you loved her?"—appalled. I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. I can’t even make myself care. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. You won’t want to be late the first evening, and it’s ten minutes past seven now. Her heart swelled to suffocation. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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