“You’re. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. She snapped out of her blissful state and looked at him squarely in the eyes.
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