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‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Hear me then, now, before I take one step to establish my origin, or secure my rights. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck.
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