" "I guess what share you've had in this," whispered Austin to Mrs. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. I don't care how soon he learns that he has lost his adopted son. He does not look the criminal. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though.
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