“Michelle, I cannot give you my blessing. Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. She parted the curtains to find him standing there. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood.
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