CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. ’ ‘What about this Leonardo fellow?’ Hilary asked, still frowning heavily. They’ve just got to keep white. But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk.
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