And yet—I love you. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. “Why should it matter?” he said. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. “We don’t let to ladies,” they said. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes.
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