Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. Ireton rushed forward to open the wicket for him. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘So it was. ’ Lucilla frowned.
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