” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. Send you the shirt. I had a hunch. I’m not a lovesick boy. He tried to make love to me.
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