Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ’ At this, the fellow Valade burst into unwise speech. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts. It is not every sort of creature needs—these males. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. A neat tale, giving little away.
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