On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. She stared at him. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. " Upon which, with an assurance that he would not do so, the attendant departed. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. Make haste!" Ruth hurried off to her own room.
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