“The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. "I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. I am going to help take care of him," said Ruth, quite ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an ordinary event in her life.
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