Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. “In private. ” He walked from his door frame to stand nearer to her. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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