I was mean to him. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. He was entranced as she walked towards him. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. She was not a Christian woman. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. Mike chortled.
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