The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. ” Carolyn shushed him modestly. And, if I can render you any service, you may command me. But I will go. I am going to help take care of him," said Ruth, quite ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an ordinary event in her life.
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