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He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. What!—add another drop to her cup? Who knows? Any day they may find me. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and in the groin that oozed stinking fluid.
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