"If you don't decide quickly, I'll scream," cried Mrs. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. This time there wasn't any doubt.
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