A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. He tried again. "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod.
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