"He is dying?" whispered Ruth. You MUST not, you SHALL not go. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. Boldly he turned the knob of a certain door and entered. She had killed him. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Neither the manners, the looks, nor the attire of these gentlemen prepossessed Mrs.
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