"To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. In this way, they reached Holborn Bridge. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left the house without a smile upon her face.
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