If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. She ignored his question. That's how I finally got wind of it. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly.
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