“Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. I don't threaten idly, as you know. He had done it. Everything I could do! Your father sat up all night. By a sort of instinct. I don’t think for a moment that he would recognize you. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. He's coming.
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