‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room.
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