“The one who used to live at Lyndmore. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember that embrace.
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