Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. " "For a bit of kindness?" Ruth was plainly bewildered. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. "You are my prisoner. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest.
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