She turned the television off. “He knows. Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts.
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