The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. " Then he looked at Ruth. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. He recognized the face instantly.
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