She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. He has escaped. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Visible underneath his collar were some metal tags. . Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe.
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