You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. We needn’t try and give ourselves airs. You are infatuated. ‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine.
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