Anna left the room on tiptoe. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. And also I have this Prudence.
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