That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. I told you that at the outset. . She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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