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There is worse to come. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. "Mercy!" screamed Mrs.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 19-09-2024 17:02:35
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