A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. "Ruth?" "Hoddy!" she cried. And, also, she wanted to borrow that money. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know.
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