It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. ” John introduced her to couple after couple, a dizzying array of new people that she could not catalogue in her memory quickly enough. Don't be afraid. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
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