She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. ’ ‘How can I have more? You have taken my pistol. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively.
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