Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties.
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