Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home. Sydney was watching her eagerly. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. More importantly, she had her wits. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. She could not help but swoon a little. Very well, I give up.
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