Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. There stepped forth a tall brown man. ” “But Italy—” “Italy’s for a good girl,” he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. E. Sit down, I command you. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him.
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