If that's true, she's not long for this world. There are way-stations—even terminals. . . ” Ennison glanced at the other people in the box and smiled. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued.
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