” “It’s the perpetual trouble,” he said, “of parent and child. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. Drink, and no sustaining food. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. ” Her first upward glance was one of terrified apprehension.
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