Her English was halting. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. "You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; "but where in this world did you get that dress?" Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down. “You are late,” she murmured. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. The Dawn Pearl. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again.
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