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The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. ” “I didn’t understand—your idea of making love. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page.
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