We know London, and you are a stranger here. Her place was not filled; she had been simply noted as absent, and she did a comforting day of admirable dissection upon the tortoise. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration.
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