Anna watched her with curious eyes. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. Let us pass, Sir. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. The likeness was ridiculous. What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. Only the next of kin. Hanging about! And they start thinking and asking questions, and begin to be neither one thing nor the other. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. We'll come back for that by and by, and the dressing-gown. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy.
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