. “Very likely,” he answered. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered.
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