It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world.
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