Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. " Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him. He saluted awkwardly. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation.
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