She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. ” Everything was good. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. " "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,—and then all is over.
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