‘And so?’ she asked. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. She laid her hand upon his arm.
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