Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. " "Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling towards him.
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