Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. Of course, he had no idea who I was. Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, Ruth!—come and tell me what you think of this. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort.
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