" She departed reluctantly. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. He stuck to the shop as long as it was necessary, and longer, in my opinion. And here against a wall were the plumtrees.
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