Ann Veronica was not aware of this literary side of her teacher; she had a little tinge of annoyance at Miss Garvice’s advantage. 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. His kisses drew deeper, he started unlacing her dress. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. Here it is. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. “So very clear and cold,” she said. \"But nothing is going to happen. She bolted upright as she heard footsteps rumble towards the door, cursing UPS for being so damn persistent in such foul weather. She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”.
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