An avid reader in many genres, I love to share books that have given me much pleasure. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust.
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