In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. We know London, and you are a stranger here. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic.
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