“Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. She paused for a moment. Can you wonder that I expect you to fulfil yours?” “I am not aware,” she answered, “that I have ever failed in doing so. Annabel entered.
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