Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. ‘More nor that. ” “Ugh! That poor girl! What a horrible guy! Did he?” “Yeah, it was his.
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