The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. It doesn’t matter with me, but there are at least a dozen young women in Mr. " "You did not hear her when she spoke to her father; I did. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. ‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. ” 281 282 About the Author Kimberly Steele grew up in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois and currently resides in Naperville, Illinois.
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