When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. It’s not you—not a bit. Go to her. "Well, good night, Mr. More importantly, she had her wits. He had a blue overstuffed couch, his own television, even a computer with its own desk. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder.
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