“Why?” He inquired. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. There was a second co-respondent. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. “Yes. “Julian, please, let’s go to your place. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard.
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