He lowered himself on to her. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. ‘Parbleu, the house, is it broken in the least? I do not think so. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. It wasn’t pretty. ” He said as Cathy took his coat and alternately handed him back his bouquet of red roses. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his.
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