"Mine died while I was over here. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. Both these ladies possessed considerable personal attractions. Jonathan caught her in his arms. But don't let my name frighten you. She cocked her head. Ruth went on to explain.
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