She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. She saw how overworked he was.
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