She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. If you ask me, you’ll have to beat her regularly if you don’t want to live a dog’s life. E. Twice we hired caterers. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said.
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