’ The listening soldiers began to snigger behind their hands. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. Here was Ruth Enschede—sick of love! Love—something the world would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. “I will be off,” she declared.
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