Not MY affair. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. " "Let this speak for me," said Sheppard, tossing a heavy bag of money towards him.
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