“I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again.
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