" Ruth turned back toward the stairs. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth. " "Wear that to-night, then. But if God is kind to me, someday I may climb up to where you are. The woman I wanted was another man's wife. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street.
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