Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Thank him, not me, man. It was a pity people had to eat food. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. " "To make him forget the knock?" "Precisely.
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