Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. You did it on your own?” Ann Veronica smiled. “I told you I did not love you. He has a heart that is easily broken. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Anna sat with the face of a Sphinx— waiting. " "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet. “No,” she answered. "How sweet these roses are! Shall I put them into water?" "Put them where they came from," replied Mrs.
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