Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. What do you think of the old tub?" "She's wonderful!" cried Ruth. Supper was over. S. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived.
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