Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um. Ruth could not very well object, since an air of distinction would go with Taber. Not for me. Let—it—fall. ” “Not in the least,” she assured him. He bent to her hand, and she slipped off the ring and gave it to him to examine.
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