Mrs. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. "I'm going back for Ruth. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. He looked down and met them. That is what my mother used to call me.
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