The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. “I thought I was just up against Morningside Park and father, but it’s the whole order of things—the whole blessed order of things. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him.
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