Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. She began to act. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night.
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