He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. Capes kept obstinately stiff, and spoke between his teeth. “It was the night you left Paris. Cathy and Larry were working late, and Mike and Shari had begun jobs themselves, Mike delivering pizza and Shari working at Victoria’s Secret. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. ’ She shook her head sadly.
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