He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. " "Ruth what?" "Enschede; Ruth Enschede. Wood, popping her head through the window. “But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. And at the sight something leaped within her. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven.
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