She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. ‘Yes, miss. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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