“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. Enschede, to have starved his heart as well as Ruth's because, having laid a curse, he knew not how to turn aside from it! How easily he might have forgotten the unworthy mother in the love of the child! And this day to hear her voice lifted in a quality of anathema. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy.
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