” “I have been through dozens of foster parents, John. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. "Not a syllable!" answered the carpenter, angrily. For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. So kind, so good to me always. But that title he would not endure. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. They blinded me.
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