" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee presently. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. It was a brief solitude, however. ” “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.
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