You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream.
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