No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. " She rose. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. Nevertheless, she was no fool, and she knew that they could easily break loose and cause her to fall. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. ‘How much does he know?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned narrowed eyes on Gerald.
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