V. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. He smiled at Ruth as she turned away from the bed, smiled with both his mouth and eyes; and she knew that here would be a man of heart as well as of science. Of course, this does not apply to uninteresting old maids," Prudence modified with a dry little smile. It’s John.
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