” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. "What is your name?" "Ruth. She struggled fiercely not to give way. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. The satisfaction of cheating Death again. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. “I have not left this apartment myself. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. How old are you?’ ‘I have nineteen years, and it is quite unimportant.
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