They decided quite audibly, “She’s an Old Dear, anyhow. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. There were more of us back then, and we weren’t seen as ghouls, in fact, in Greece and the time before we were worshipped as gods. After a while he spoke again. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action.
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