She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about.
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