She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. So, why did you slam the door in John Diedermayer's face?\" Lucy did not look at her, but cocked her head skyward. "Well, my pretty dears," he added, "—to see your husband, eh? You must make the most of your time. 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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