She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. Men do not understand constancy as women do. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. —I do not congratulate you on your success.
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