Mrs. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. ” He paused. I am bored to distraction. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. She could not bear the shame of it. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed.
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