“Uh, I think I might, Shari. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar.
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