The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. " And seizing her by the hair, he pulled back her head, and drew the knife with all his force across her throat. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. Ruth loved him. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear.
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