Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. He had certain orders from which on no account was he to deviate. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. ‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes.
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