. . Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. I tell you once more, I'll say and do nothing to get you into trouble. I told you that at the outset. I think too much about myself. When she reflected that Mr. Section 2. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. His friendship seemed a thing worth having. Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. Considering how little he lets her have.
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