"You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; "but where in this world did you get that dress?" Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her.
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