" "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. A neighbor stopped by as the day wore on, causing her to duck and cower as he rang the doorbell over and over. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. Much more temperate; the discreet and joyless love of a virtuous, reluctant, condescending wife.
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