But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. 26 His duties were to make certain that she was eating right and not exposing herself to foul odors and cold drafts. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. “Stay where you are for a moment,” she directed.
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