I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Captain Kneebone! we must trouble you to accompany us. He handed Ruth a letter. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation.
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