She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. Nothing has been touched since. “You, too,” he said abruptly. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television.
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