Ruth was strong in body and soul. She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. His safety must be looked to. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. But she was relentless. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. “These are the playgrounds of life. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth.
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