" The spinsters had no counter-philosophy to offer; so they turned to Ruth, who had singularly and unconsciously invested herself with glamour, the glamour of adventure, which the old maids did not recognize as such because they were only tourists. He temporized, and the girl raised her eyes once more to his. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. Did you know you’re very maternal? Damn, you’re more maternal than my Mom. She cocked her head. “I told you I did not love you. It had been very peaceful in the little cave for countless years. But he. C. He begged their attention for the next turn.
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