She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. " He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust them under her arm. Very few survived her trials. He stood still, almost breathless. "Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. Presently she woke up to the fact that there was a considerable group of interests called being in love and getting married, with certain attractive and amusing subsidiary developments, such as flirtation and “being interested” in people of the opposite sex. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. A curious silence ensued. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. ” She shook her head. ‘Come on. " "Perhaps that was it.
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