“He sees through it all. Contests were held every year, the type of which depended on her caprice. But I don’t suppose you can understand. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily.
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