Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. On the contrary, it was impossible to look at him without perceiving that his resolution was unshaken. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. As her belly swelled, so did he. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said.
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