" "I must trouble you to hold the child, then, for a minute, while I run up to the garret, where I've hidden it for safety," said Mrs. Wood. Have you suffered?" "Dear God!… every hour since!" "The Spurlock conscience. Those awful chairs!" After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. ’ Emile reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders.
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