Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. She has contrived to keep out of my sight up to this time, and I've no doubt she'll keep out of it altogether for the future. She floundered deep. \" \"Good night, Mom. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. \" He looked crestfallen. “I don’t know. ’ ‘And now we know also who is the prétendant, Mademoiselle Charvill. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant.
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