Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. ’ She tossed her head. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight.
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