There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. He kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘But I am perfectly serious,’ he returned in a voice of protest. " "Are you sure of that," inquired Jackson. 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. Getting back the ice was rather a serious affair. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. " He paused, and not without malice.
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