She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. "I'll soon free you from these bracelets. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. But I don’t want to. ‘Do you at least know how he came to be in a position to cheat Miss Charvill, and to pass off his wife in her place?’ ‘In her place?’ There was no mistaking the boy’s ignorance of this part of the tale. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. This business of love is the supreme affair in life, it is the woman’s one event and crisis that makes up for all her other restrictions, and I cower—as we all cower—with a blushing and paralyzed mind until it overtakes me!. "You forgot your lunch," she said.
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