A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. That was life. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously.
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