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. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. “My Mom was a good lady. "What is your name?" "Ruth. " "Vot o' that?" chuckled Abraham. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game.
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