Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. " "But that's the point—I don't know. I love some one else. “Don’t!” she begged. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had.
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