‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. He had kissed his wife on the mouth … and had been horrified! There was real madness somewhere along this road.
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