. "Can't!" repeated his mother. But oh, how weary I am! I know. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. ‘You’re only making things worse, you little idiot.
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