“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. ” “I have been through dozens of foster parents, John. The key's in the lock, on the inner side.
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