‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely.
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