After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. ***** Ruth and the doctor returned to the hotel at four. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. Boldly he turned the knob of a certain door and entered. She ran through the backyards of Pinecrest subdivision, piano wire and a slim jim tucked into her pantyhose. He's got the gift of the gab.
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