All right really. You DO use vile language!” “Forget about it like this. " Ruth turned back toward the stairs. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. If my Mom found out, she’d kill me.
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