“You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. She has given herself up to social work. “Yes. Pardon! I wish to say, for your granddaughter, we seek succour. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic.
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