He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. I have had my day; and there were women in it. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. "Thanks.
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