However, to cut a long matter short, my proposal's this: —I've taken a fancy to your bantling, and, as I've no son of my own, if it meets with your concurrence and that of Mrs. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. She had found that proof. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. "You open it, Ruth. I don’t think they do matter. ” Inwardly, she laughed at the idea of him trying to beat on her, flailing, his arms akimbo. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary.
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