" So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. Yet she held her tongue. ” Anna sat back in her cab, but found it remain stationary. She turned off the light and approached the window. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp.
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