Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. She walked through the walls. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. There was a strained, eager expression on his face.
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