God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away. ‘And so?’ she asked. “But your sister?” he asked. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. Get the pole out of your ass.
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