He looked no longer at his wife. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at. 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. Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. ’ “Crude, I admit. It was a purse. .
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