” She shook her fist ceilingward. . She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. She thought me— filthy. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded, died. “I really owe him something of an apology. . But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension.
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