Anna sent her away. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. No other white people within twenty miles. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. She looked up quickly.
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