The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. I knew it. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, "I've good news for you. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression.
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