" "What time is it?" inquired Jack. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. They were filthy after the burial. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step.
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