"Are you sure these bars touch the ground?" "They come within a yard of it," answered Jonathan. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. But to make an arrest to be like a revenge? No, a thousand times. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that.
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