“It was poison—why not?” she answered. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying.
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