To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. ‘She wants me to marry her. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. From then on he was Ruth's dog. It was years before your time. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger.
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