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. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. It runs about gayly, it romps, it is bright and pretty, it has enormous quantities of soft hair and more power of expressing affection than its brothers. ’ Before she could object, Melusine found herself hustled back into the house and dragged willy-nilly towards the library door, where Jack called softly. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. You are my wife now and you belong to me. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.

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