He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. To take Spring and Love out of her life, as if there were no human instincts to tell Ruth what was being denied her! And what must have been the man's thought as he came upon Ruth wearing a gown of her mother's? —a fair picture of the mother in the primrose days? Not a flicker of an eyelash; steel and granite outwardly. ‘And, if this was not enough,’ went on the lady furiously, ‘you dare to say I am French. Kneebone took his leave.
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