The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. “But you must forgive me, John. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth.
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