And some were adorned with engravings that struck her as being more vulgar and undesirable than anything she had ever seen in her life. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. She too had seen. Not much.
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