So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat.
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