Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them.
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