Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. I should only disappoint you terribly some day. Perhaps marriage hurt.
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