She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Brown. He seemed happy with her, finding her proper and seemly. It hadn’t even been called Kentucky back then when the Shawnee still hunted deer over mossy hills and the smoke from their fires could still inspire terror. ‘Not yet, madame.
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