Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. In a sense I don’t care. "What is your name?" "Ruth. " Immediately he stepped back. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. "I have not trusted you.
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