He did not love Ruth. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. He was not there. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Montague Hill. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. m. She dare not risk it. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's.
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