His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. It's as strong, if not stronger, than this.
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