" "Pray come to the point, Sir," said Mrs. Buck up. Perhaps marriage hurt. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day.
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