"What has happened?" Ruth asked. Fifty sent home. “Among other things, you know, I didn’t understand quite—I didn’t understand that you were so keenly interested in this suffrage question. \"Of course not. ‘But tell me this instead. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Those awful chairs!" After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. He would certainly welcome McClintock's advent. I waited for her at the back. "Besides, lad, even an advertisement of a cough-drop is something to read.
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