They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning.
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