Ruth went on to explain. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. "I shall breathe more freely dere. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. “But I am your husband,” he said. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise.
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