I tried painting and couldn’t get on. ” He took up his hat. ’ The door opened and Saling entered again. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. 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. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin.
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